Act I: Planted Seed
by Bellarsam Chrisjulittle
Summary: The first part of my new story: "Fleur de L'Amour."  Please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_This must be what Paradise is like._

That was the most powerful thought in Maria Rainer's mind as she idly wandered through the maze of hedges in the garden of the Von Trapp villa. It was a beautiful midsummer evening, and the music of the orchestra in the ballroom floated in the air like a lovely scent to Maria's ears.

She was happy, but in a different way than she was accustomed to. Usually when happy, Maria could barely control herself. She would run, or skip, or clap, more often than not burst into song not caring who heard. But this time, Maria was very much aware of her surroundings. So she continued to walk, sometimes stepping to the music, humming quietly.

Though she was only the children's governess, this was the first formal party she'd ever attended. The sight of all of those women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in tuxedos was overwhelming to her. Baroness Schraeder, especially, looked absolutely gorgeous in her shimmering golden gown and perfectly curled golden hair. Looking at her, anyone could see that Elsa Schraeder was born to be the perfect hostess of the first class. This was not a world Maria thought that she would ever see.

The path ended, leading into the courtyard outside the ballroom, looking like something out of Greek mythology with the goddess statues in the corners and the hedges all around it. All of the children were gathered there. Liesl and Frederick were dancing together to the music, with the other children watching.

Maria smiled and spoke, making her presence known. "Well, why didn't you children tell me you could dance?"

The two oldest children stopped in their dance, and Kurt stepped forward to answer. "We were afraid that you'd make us all dance together: the Von Trapp Family Dancers!" He ended on a theatrical twirl, earning a laugh from the rest of the children.

The music playing in the ballroom changed from live and gay to slow and almost mournful. Looking inside, the children could see a new dance being done, with the people walking around each other to the music.

"What's that they're playing?" asked Gretl to her Fraulein.

Maria smiled, the music both distantly and closely familiar to her. "It's the Laendler, it's an Austrian folk dance."

Kurt stepped up to her and pleaded, "Show me?"

Maria chuckled and shook her head. "Oh, Kurt, I haven't danced that since I was a little girl!"

"Oh, you remember," said Kurt, unconcerned. Like his brother and sisters, Kurt believed that his Fraulein could do anything she set out to do. "Please?"

"Well . . ." Maria was still hesitant. It really had been years since she'd last danced the Laendler. Only the first few steps were coming to her mind.

"_Please?" _Kurt pleaded, his round face and rosy cheeks just impossible to reject.

So, with a pat of his cheeks, Maria consented. "Oh, all right. Come on over here."

She led Kurt to the center of the courtyard and faced him. "Now," she instructed, "you bow, and I curtsied."

"Like this?"

"Fine! Now we'll go for a little walk, this way . . ." Maria took Kurt's hand and proceeded to teach him the steps, counting off as she went to make it easier. When they got to the under-arm turn, the odd pair met some difficulties, due to Kurt's pre-adolescent clumsiness and a major height difference betweent the two. Maria tried it again, but met the same result.

"Kurt, we'll have to practice!" laughed Maria, as they were caught in the awkward position again.

Then a new but very familiar voice spoke from behind her that sent a shiver down her spine. "Son, do allow me, will you?"

Maria turned around in time to see Captain Von Trapp shoo his son away with an affectionate pat on the head, then turn to her with his right hand extended. Maria was astonished. How long had he been watching? She hadn't noticed until now. Yet there he was, standing tall and more handsome than ever in his tuxedo and medals, silently asking for her hand in a dance. That Maria thought him handsome did not bother her – anymore. It seemed just a fact to her too big to deny, especially tonight.

And without questioning why or even if she should, Maria put her bare hand in his gloved one, and their Laendler dance began.

The steps all came back to her mind, which was a great relief to her: Maria did not want to make a misstep in front of the Captain. But Maria needn't have worried: every step went smoothly. The turn that had seemed awkward with Kurt became graceful with the Captain.

As Maria twirled beneath his arm, her skirt flaring out prettily, her smile went from hesitant to full and genuine. For the first time, it really hit Maria where she was: she was actually attending a ball! Never mind that she was only the children's governess and not part of the real party – here she was, dancing with the most handsome man of the party, in a moonlit garden. If nothing else, she would carry this lovely Cinderella memory back with her to the Abbey when her time came to go.

The fact that she would have to leave at the end of the summer was incredibly sad, but she would not think of that now – she was too happy.

Throughout the dance, she and the Captain exchanged shy smiles, and Maria marvelled how far they had come – from being at complete odds to gaining a true respect and as close to a friendship as these two people could come.

The tone of the music and dance changed from merry to intimate, which took both of them a little by surprise. As Maria walked in step behind him, he reached over his shoulder for her hand. Suddenly, she felt as shy as a school girl when she gave him her hand and came up in front of him. And then, after their arms went through the sweeping movements, his arm encircled her waist as they rotated in sync together.

Maria suddenly felt as if she were wearing next to nothing. She could not recall, when dancing the Laendler, her being so close to her partner. Or her face suddenly flushing with color. Or her stomach filling with butterflies. Or her heart beginning to beat faster. Or becoming so entranced in the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen.

All she could see was those burning eyes in that most handsome face.

Both stopped in the dance, as if both were following the same impulse. Maria felt both of their arms drop to their sides, feeling overwhelmed by his presence. They were so close that she could smell his cologne, almost intoxicating in a way. The fear felt cold in her chest, and she backed away from him slowly, feeling she might drown in a way. As she backed away slowly, it felt as if she were ripping herself from him, which only confused her more.

"I don't remember anymore," she said in awe and confusion, almost to herself but still looking at him. His gaze, likewise, had never left hers, and he looked just as astonished and confused as she did.

From it seemed a long way off, she could hear Brigitta telling her, "Your face is all red."

"Is it?" she asked, suddenly extremely embarrassed, and of course she felt a new flood of blood rush to her cheeks. Her hands rose to attempt to cover her rosy cheeks, but she knew that the Captain had now noticed. She felt more like a schoolgirl than ever, and somehow, she managed to find some humor in it. It was the only safe thing she could do – the alternative was to become scared. "I don't suppose I'm used to dancing," she said to both him and herself, the smallest of smiles coming to her lips.

And to her delight, he offered her an small but enchanting smile in return. The butterflies in her stomach and heart seemed to dance for joy.

Then a voice, like an icy cold wind, finally made her and the Captain break eye contact. "Why that was beautifully done! What a lovely couple you make!"

All those butterflies seemed to drop dead inside. Maria saw that Baroness Schraeder had come into the courtyard, stepping up to them as she spoke. Guilt now flooded through her mind. What on earth had shee been doing? What right had she to dance with the man this woman was planning on becoming engaged to? She felt horrible and self-conscious.

"Yes, well," began the Captain, looking as embarrassed and uncomfortable as she had just felt. "I think it's time the, uh, children said good-night."

Knowing that she needed to focus now on her job, Maria replied with each word gaining her old confidence. "Yes, we'll be in the hall in a moment." She turned to the children, her safe zone, where she knew what she was doing. "We've got something very special prepared, right?"

The children all nodded enthusiastically, and she motioned for them to follow her into the maze. Quickly, she ran with them, and she certainly felt as if she were not running _to _something like the children, but _from _something.

Maria felt unsettled, unglued, but she would deal with that later. Now, her job was with the children. She could certainly handle that just fine.

But _his _face still remained present in her mind. Though she had no idea what had happened just now in the courtyard, all she knew was this: _something has changed in me tonight._

**_A/N: _**__As you SOM devotees have undoubtedly noticed, I made this scene fit right into the movie perfectly, as has been my habit. But next chapter, that will change. __


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_This scene uses only dialogue from the movie, but you'll find out pretty quickly the new direction in which I'm taking this story. Enjoy!_

Elsa Schraeder wandered amongst the guests, all dancing the Laendler in pairs. He had disappeared, it seemed, from her side a moment ago. Not that she wanted to dance with him now – the Laendler was not a favorite of hers to dance – but still, she wanted to know where he was. Coming to the ballroom, she thought she could see some of the children through the open doorways to the courtyard. Perhaps Georg had gone to bid them good-night.

Sure enough, he was in the courtyard. But the sight that met Elsa's eyes was far from what she'd expected to see.

A succession of four emotions went through Elsa's mind and heart in the next few moments as she watched Georg dancing with his children's governess.

First came the inevitable shock. Georg was a man whom she usually had to persuade to dance with every weapon she had in her mental arsenal. Yet now, there he was, dancing of his own free will, with a woman who wasn't even an official guest!

Next, of course, the inevitable jealousy. After all, Georg had been hinting at a possible marriage between the two of them for months, each time he'd come to visit her in Vienna. When he had invited her to come for a stay at the villa, he couldn't have made those intentions clearer to her. Yet, from the moment she'd arrived – or, more accurately, the moment she'd first seen the children and Maria for the first time – he'd become a man she no longer knew. Though she was happy that he'd reconnected with his children, the heartbroken man she'd grown to know had disappeared. And very often she would catch him watching their governess for longer than necessary and appropriate. Especially that evening of the puppet show: the looks those two had exchanged could not have disguised their mutual attraction.

Up until now, Elsa had dismissed all of this by thinking it was merely an infatuation in Georg. It seemed natural. Though the young woman was supposed to become a nun, Elsa doubted if Maria knew just how attractive a young woman she was. Of course Georg would have noticed! And Georg was an extremely handsome man – how could Maria not notice that, future nun or not?

These thoughts led to the third emotion: understanding. As Georg and Maria stopped in their danced, Elsa realized for the first time, seeing them so close, how well they seemed to . . . _match_ together. Both were looking at each other in that strong, intense way that only meant one thing. Elsa could see now that this was more than a mere infatuation between the two: this was very big, very real, and not something that could be swept away.

Maria backed away from Georg slowly, and said, "I don't remember anymore." Elsa assumed she was talking about the dance.

As she watched the further interaction going on, the fourth emotion came to Elsa slowly, taking her by surprise: the beginning of acceptance. Looking at the two of them, Elsa allowed herself to admit for the first time that Georg did not feel anything that strongly for her. But before she could get too sad, she in turn realized that she did not feel anything that strongly for him. Nothing beyond friendship, she now realized. Their attraction to each other had been based on one fact: they were two lonely people in need of companionship. But that man had disappeared now, and it seemed that he'd found what he was looking for.

Though, judging by the confusion on both their faces, neither of them realized it yet. Perhaps it was her place now to point them in that direction.

So, when she stepped forward and spoke, Elsa spoke with complete sincerity. "Well, that was beautifully done! What a lovely couple you make."

On second thought, that might not have been the right thing to say, especially from her. Maria looked like she had been caught red-handed in a robbery, and Georg looked so guilty and embarrassed it was almost funny. His tone reflected that as he spoke, "Yes, well I think it's time the, uh, children said good-night."

"Yes," said Maria, trying to regain her usual confidence and optimism with the children. "We'll be in the hall in a moment. We've got something very special prepared, right?" The last comment was directed at the children, who all nodded enthusiastically in response. She all but ran away with the children through the maze of hedges.

Turning to Georg, he took her arm to lead her back into the ballroom, still looking guilty.

Amused, Elsa teased, "All that needless worrying, Georg – you thought you wouldn't find a friend at the party!"

Georg paused in confusion, and then looked behind him in the direction Maria had run away. Elsa had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. Georg turned back around, inhaling through his teeth, and stratching the back of his neck. "Bit chilly out tonight, isn't it?"

His tone showed he felt both guilty and uncomfortable, and Elsa couldn't help but smirk. She replied teasingly, "Oh, I don't know. Seemed rather _warm_ to me."

Again, she had to surpress a chuckle at his slight blush and uncomfortable smile, but then the voice of Maria could be heard at the doorway. "Ladies and gentleman, the children of Captain Von Trapp wish to say 'good-night' to you." With a charming smile, she motioned everyone into the hall. Everyone first turned to look at Georg, who gave a shrug and motioned for the hall.

Elsa, Georg and the guests all then watched a truly charming performance from the children, each saying goodnight in some endearing way. _They really are enchanting children_ thought Elsa, though normally she did not like children – she just didn't have the proper disposition.

Her gaze then wandered to the left, where Maria was standing by a pillar in the hall, watching the children. She watched them with an expression that could only be read one way: _motherly._ This young woman loves those children as if they were her own. As Elsa fully realized this fact, she knew that she was doing the right thing by accepting the inevitable. Georg had not only found a woman he could love, but also a new mother for his children. Much as she cared for Georg, she knew it was a role that she could never fill.

Right then and there, she decided to do all in her power to truly unite this family that had been broken so unfairly. She had been foolish to think she could do that, because from the start, she had only thought of Georg. But he was a packaged deal, and Maria was the perfect person to fill that gap in all of their lives, in every way.

She smiled genuinely as the crowd waved goodbye to the children. Immediately, all of the guests started to talk and compliment Georg on his children.

The first to come was Max. "They are extraordinary! What they would do at the festival!"

Elsa rolled her eyes, and Georg quickly made his way towards other guests who wanted to compliment him on his children.

Max saw Maria heading for the staircase, intending to follow the children, and stopped her by grabbing her arm. "Oh, young lady, I must have a word with you."

"Oh, please excuse me –" Maria looked panicked, and tried to escape Max's grip, but he insisted. Elsa pursed her lips in annoyance for the young woman. What was Max up to?

"Georg," said Max, still holding Maria by the arm. "You're not going to let this girl get away. She has to join the party!"

"No, really, I –"

"Shh, stop it now," Max silenced her with a raised finger, speaking to her as if she were one of the children. He turned back to Georg, who had finally turned to them from the guests. "Georg, please."

"You can if you want to, Fraulein," he said, as if he didn't care one way or the other.

Now Elsa was annoyed with him; not the proper tone he should be using on this girl, and Max was only making it worse by trapping her. "I insist! You will be _my _dinner partner." He turned to Elsa with a sly look. "This is business," he murmured to her satisfactorily.

Again, Elsa rolled her eyes. So _that _was what he was up to: he wanted to use Maria to convince Georg to let the children perform in the festival. She swore that sometimes she would have liked nothing better than to give Max a good . . . well _something _that would knock some class into him!

Just then, Franz passed them and Max stopped him. "Oh, Franz, set another place next to mine for Fraulein Maria," he said pleasantly, ignoring the shocked look on Franz's face. He turned to his boss to know what he thought of this, and Georg just gave a nod. Elsa saw Maria look at the back of Georg's head as if he had betrayed her. _Poor thing._

"Why . . . whatever you say, Herr Dettweiler," said Franz before stiffly walking towards the dining room.

"Well, it appears to be all arranged, doesn't it?" said Georg with a small smile.

Elsa had never been more annoyed with the two of them. "It certainly does," she said coolly looking at the both of those two silly boys.

But Maria would not go to dinner without a fight. "I'm not suitably dressed!" she insisted, almost pleading to the Captain.

"Oh, you can change, we'll wait for you," he replied, again in that almost careless tone. So what choice did Maria have? Her hand to her head, she tried to offer Max as heartfelt of a smile as she could muster and he finally let her go upstairs.

Elsa watched her go up to her room; she'd seen the look in Maria's eyes all through this. The last thing that girl needed was to be down here with all of the guests looking incredulously at her, wondering why on earth the governess was allowed to eat with them.

No, Elsa knew that now, she had to start to make things right, and that first step was to talk with Fraulein Maria.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_Whew! I've been on a roll! But please don't expect my next update to be as fast as this one was - I've got some thinking to do now. Please enjoy this chapter: some dialogue from the movie, but I but a curveball in the original story. I love reviews!_

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><p>Maria shut the door behind her as she went into her room, which felt like as much of a sanctuary as the chapel in the Abbey. Oh, how she wished she were in that lovely room now, or with the Reverend Mother in her office. She needed time to herself, to think, to pray. What was it about this night, this party, that had changed her? For something had changed, but each time she tried to define it, all that would come to mind was <em>his<em> face.

She leaned back against her door and groaned, her hands going to her face. Taking some deep breaths, Maria knew she had to pull herself together. Now she was expected for dinner downstairs, and she couldn't keep everyone waiting. But what on earth was she going to wear?

Just as she was beginning to unbutton her dress, she heard a soft knock on her door. "Come in," called Maria, not knowing what to expect.

Certainly not for Baroness Schraeder herself to come in. Even though there was a kind smile on the Baroness's face, Maria immediately covered herself with her hands and felt terrified, like a cornered animal. "Baroness Schraeder?"

"I thought I might help you find something to wear to dinner, my dear," said Elsa. Her tone was kind, matching her face, none of the usual iciness with it.

Maria could see that, and began to let go of her suspicions, but the guilt was still raging inside. "It's very kind of you to offer to help me, Baroness," she said, timidly, her hands still covering her chest, much the same way they had on her first night in the house when the Captain had scolded her.

"I'm delighted, Maria," said Elsa, in that same kind tone. Maria's insides seemed to unclench. She decided to trust Elsa.

"Well, I really don't think I have anything that would be appropriate," she said as she took off her dress. Maria didn't feel uncomfortable undressing in front of Elsa, or any woman: she had lived in the convent for quite some time amongst dozens of them.

Elsa turned to Maria's small bureau, and had no doubt of what Maria had just said. "Now where is that lovely little thing that you were wearing the other evening, when the . . ." She paused, and stopped herself from saying "_when the Captain couldn't keep his eyes off you." _If Maria had been one of her friends, or been brought up in the upper class, she could. But Maria was a postulant from a simple background, and somehow Elsa knew if she said that, Maria would get scared and defensive. So she quickly changed her mind and finished, "when the children and you put on that delightful puppet show?" She then pulled out the very blue dress from the bureau and spread it out on the bed. "Here we are!"

To her relief, Maria smiled as she buttoned up the dress she had just taken off and gazed at the blue one. "It _is _the most beautiful dress I've ever worn, and my favorite. But I don't think it's quite formal enough for this party, Baroness." Her gaze wandered over Elsa's elegant gold dress and white gloves. "I don't even have any jewelry to wear, or make-up, or anything formal of that nature."

"Please, Maria, call me Elsa," said Elsa to Maria, and the young woman smiled and nodded. "And though this dress is very lovely, especially on you, I'm afraid you may be right." Her tone was apologetic, which made Maria feel better. "Perhaps I have something in my wardrobe that would be sufficient for you; our sizes are similar."

Maria's eyes widened. "Y-you would let _me _wear one of _your _gorgeous gowns?"

"I don't see a reason why not, especially if you need one," said Elsa calmly.

"Oh, Ba- Elsa thank you!" said Maria with all of her heart, and Elsa's own heart warmed. Never had a 'thank you' sounded so nice. She smiled.

But before the two could leave the room, another knock came to Maria's door. "One moment!" Aware that she was only in her underdress, Maria immediately grabbed her robe and wrapped it around herself. "All right, come in."

The door opened revealing Louisa. "Fraulein Maria, could you – Oh, Baroness Schraeder! I didn't know you were in here!"

Louisa's gaze on Elsa was sharp and suspicious, and Elsa's heart sank a little. She had never made a conscious effort to be close to them, and to find her standing with their governess alone in her room must have looked strange.

"What is it, Louisa?" said Maria calmly. "Shouldn't you all be in bed now?"

"I would be, but Liesl and Brigitta won't stop talking about the party, and it's taking all of our energy to keep the little ones from going down and spying."

Maria sighed. "I should have known that sleep would not come easily to any of you tonight. I'll come in a few minutes, all right?"

Louisa nodded, cast one more pointed look at Elsa and left, closing the door behind her.

Maria must have noticed the despondent look on Elsa's face and moved closer to her. "They don't hate you, they just don't know you."

Elsa gave a small chuckle. "In a way, I took their father away from them, every time he came to visit me. I don't blame them at all, especially since I've never felt natural with children."

"It takes time, Elsa," said Maria. "You give them a chance, and they'll give you a chance."

In her forty decades on earth, Elsa had never met a woman who spoke so genuinely and honestly as Maria. Those were not qualities that the upper-class was known for. It felt so refreshing to her, and she gave Maria a smile.

"Well, at any rate, I won't give those children any other reason to resent me, starting now," said Elsa cryptically, confusing Maria. Elsa only smiled and picked up the blue dress again. "This really is a sweet and lovely dress. Where did you find it?"

"Oh," said Maria, crossing her arms self-consciously. "Well, I made it, actually, from some material the Captain gave to me shortly after he and you came from Vienna."

She said it almost guiltily, which made Elsa a little sad as she smiled gently at Maria. In a tone just as gentle – a tone she very rarely used – she asked, "He gave it to show his gratitude, didn't he? It was you, after all, who opened his heart to his children again."

Maria vehemently shook her head. "He did that himself, I only helped. But, yes, he did say it was his way of saying thank you." Maria was looking at the material with a dreamy look in her eyes.

Elsa had to repress a chuckle again. _Yes, the signs are all there, even if she can't read them. But not now, she is needed elsewhere. _"Maria, don't worry, I'll tell them you won't be coming down. I'm sure that, after putting seven excited children to bed, you will want to rest yourself."

Maria looked at Elsa as if she'd just saved her life. "Oh, Elsa, will you? I would be so grateful to you! I _do_ have to do my job, I knew when Max insisted I stayed for dinner that those children wouldn't get themselves to bed. Why does he insist I dine with everyone? I'm only the governess."

Elsa gave a hollow chuckle. "Well, my dear, I'm afraid he wants to use you to help him persuade Georg into letting his children sing at the festival. Who better to convince a stubborn sea captain than –" Again, Elsa stopped short of saying something that might distress her. "Than his children's teacher?"

"Oh," said Maria, unaffected and understanding. Elsa gave a silent sigh of relief. "Well, again, thank you very much . . . Elsa." It looked as if something were still weighing on Maria's conscience, but she gave a grateful smile.

Elsa nodded and moved towards the door. Just before she turned the knob, she heard Maria nearly burst out, "Elsa?"

Elsa turned around to look at her, and saw that Maria had a worried and guilty look on her face. "What is it, Maria?"

"Well," said Maria, suddenly shifting on her feet and looking down at them, uncomfortable. "This is, after all, a party for you, and I don't know all of the rules of society, but . . . I'm sure it wasn't wise to be dancing with the Captain when . . . " Maria wanted to say "_when he is planning to marry you_" but she somehow managed to, for once, keep her mouth shut.

But Elsa understood anyway, and offered Maria a kind and reassuring smile. "Maria, at a party, dancing is not a crime under any circumstances. And why would I be upset that you danced with Georg? He is not something I own or possess, he is my good friend, and only that."

Maria, who looked shocked, just nodded because she could think of nothing else to do. But she couldn't deny the relief that she felt because of Elsa's words, or the confusion.

"I'll leave you to the children, Maria," said Elsa, who was satisfied she'd done a good deed tonight. This young woman truly was something special, and she hoped that they would become real friends in time.

"Good-night, Elsa, and thank you again," said Maria genuinely. The two women left the room together and headed down opposite hallways: Elsa towards the stairs and Maria towards the children's rooms.

Elsa re-entered the ballroom with a graceful sway in her step. She made her way to Max and took two champagne glasses from one of the waiters.

"Champagne, darling!" she greeted Max, handing him a glass, which he took with a raised eyebrow. "I feel like celebrating. Cheers!" Indeed, she did feel satisfied. Looking at Georg across the ballroom, it actually came as a relief to her to know what they felt towards each other and that she didn't mind anymore that it wasn't something stronger. That would have destroyed both their lives, she could see that now.

"You know something?" asked Max, and she turned her head to face him.

"Perhaps," she answered, returning his sly look.

"Then if you're so clever, tell me how to get our little fraulein to use her influence with Georg." His gaze turned to his friend with a determined set. "I want those children in the festival." He turned back to her, as if to convince her. "Elsa, this is important to Austria."

Now Elsa raised an eyebrow. "It wouldn't do you any harm, either."

Max got a pleasant smile on his face. "I've thought of that!"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Well, tonight you'll have to try that alone." Max turned to her with a confused expression. "The children are restless upstairs, and as you know, it's the governess's job to put them to bed. I'm afraid you'll have no dinner partner tonight."

Max gave a disappointed sigh. "Well, there's always tomorrow."

Elsa gave a chuckle and patted Max's arm as she handed him her champagne glass. Walking across the ballroom, she motioned for Georg to join her in a waltz. He did with a small smile for her, and Elsa smiled right back. _Oh, my friend, I knew I could make you happy. I just only realized how: by leading you to the person who can do that._

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><p>Upstairs, Maria sat on the edge of little Gretl's bed. The little girl was finally falling asleep. "Did you enjoy your first party, little one?" asked Maria softly, stroking the girl's hair.<p>

"Very much," replied Gretl. "Kurt said all of the women looked ugly, but I think they're all beautiful. I think the men look beautiful too!"

Maria smiled and laughed at the statement, and then the Captain's face came to her mind. _Beautiful . . ._ She shook herself and changed the subject. "You children did such a wonderful job tonight! I can see you've been practicing."

Gretl smiled and nodded. "Fraulein Maria?"

"Yes, Gretl?"

"You and father danced so loverly together. You should dance all the time."

Maria's cheeks turned pink, and she squirmed inside as she realized a part of her wished that they could. Shoving that thought resolutely from her consciousness, Maria again changed the subject and said, "Well, the sun has indeed gone to bed and now so must you. Good night, sweetheart." Maria bent down and kissed the girl on the forehead.

"Good-night, Fraulein Maria," said Gretl, already drifting off to sleep.

Maria reached out to gently stroke the girls round, rosy cheek. Though the summer was only halfway over, Maria realized that soon, she would have to leave, leave these children she had come to love so much. Yes, she indeed loved them all. Oh, how she would miss them!

_And not just the children . . ._ Again, the Captain's face and his smile came back into her mind. And again, she shook herself. Where are these thoughts coming from? In her mind, they were like a bad cold that needed to just go away! She had to trust that they would . . . she only hoped it would happen soon. At least, most of her mind did . . .

As Maria made her way back to her own room, indeed feeling tired, she thought over how she'd escaped going to dinner, which was surely happening now since the music had stopped. Baroness Schraeder had been so nice to her, genuinely nice! Maria hadn't expected it – not that she had ever thought Elsa a bad person, but she never imagined she would take a liking to a common girl like her. But, then again, she'd made wrong first impressions about people before, like the Captain. Yet again, his face popped up and she shooed it away, like an annoying fly.

One thing that Elsa had said to her was still confusing her, though. She'd said that she shouldn't feel guilty for dancing with the Captain, that she hadn't done anything wrong, and that he was only Elsa's good friend.

Then why did she feel like she had done something wrong? And why had Elsa only called him her friend, if he was truly planning to ask her to marry him? A sharp pain went through Maria's heart at that thought, though she didn't know why.

Maria stopped and looked behind her, towards the children's rooms. One thing was for certain: those children needed a mother. Maria prayed that they would get a wonderful one, not yet realizing that that destiny was hers.


	4. Chapter 4

Georg Von Trapp entered his study with a sigh of relief and closed the door behind him. As if in desperation, he ripped off his gloves, bow-tie and jacket. The party was _finally _over.

Not that it hadn't been a bad party – the children had been an unexpected hit, and Elsa seemed very happy when she'd retired for the evening. Even despite the presence of Herr Zeller – the rat – the party had not been unpleasant. But Georg had never been one for parties, especially for hosting one. When Agathe had been alive, he hadn't minded too much. Back then the political climate had not been so tense, and Agathe had been the perfect hostess, charming and graceful to watch. She had been the reason he could have a good time at parties.

And this night, the only moment he'd had a truly good time had been . . .

Audibly groaning in frustration, Georg tossed the small items of clothing he'd taken off onto the desk and let himself fall back on the couch, his face in his hands._ What are you thinking, you fool?_

Someone knocked on his study door, and he was grateful someone came to interrupt his thoughts that would soon turn dangerous. "Come in," he said, lifting his hands from his face.

In came Max with his bow-tie untied, looking exactly the opposite of what Georg was feeling. "Ah, what a lovely party you throw, Georg! You people of wealth sure know how to take care of me!"

Georg only grunted in response, and began to rub his forehead with the fingers of his right hand.

Max, not taking Georg's typical post-party mood seriously, made his way to the liquor cabinet. "Night-cap, Georg?"

"Whiskey," replied Georg promptly, still rubbing his forehead. "Just bring me the bottle, would you?"

This made Max turn around with raised eyebrows, but he brought the bottle still, deciding it would be best to be present if Georg was in _this _kind of mood. He'd seen his old friend drink much worse and much harder in their navy days; Max knew that tonight the worst that would happen to Georg would be that he would not think before he spoke, and Max knew when and when not to take him seriously.

"All right," said Max, settling down on the empty space on the couch and filling two glasses. "What's wrong? You didn't have that bad of a time, did you?"

"No, it wasn't that bad, I suppose," admitted Georg, taking the glass quickly from Max's hands and took a swig. The liquid tasted bitter and hot in his mouth, just the way he wanted it to.

"It wasn't my idea to invite Herr Zeller, Georg," said Max, immediately thinking of an obvious reason why Georg would have this attitude after a party. "He's just in a position where not to invite him would be sending too dangerous of a message."

"I know, Max," said Georg, swishing the remaining amber liquid around in his glass absently. "And if I were my normal self, that _would _be what is really bothering me."

Max narrowed his eyes in confusion for a moment. "You'd better start from the beginning, Georg. You need to talk."

Georg drained the remaining liquid from his glass in one large gulp, preparing to open up to his friend in what might not be the best way.

* * *

><p>"Girls, really! The party was very exciting for everyone, but I am at my wit's end! If your father finds out you've stayed up this late, he is <em>not <em>going to be pleased." This is what Maria said upon entering into the older girls' room. Sure enough, the three of them were all sitting on Liesl's bed with the nightside table on. All three looked up in guilty shock at their governess.

"We're sorry, Fraulein," said Brigitta, hanging her head. The other's looks of guilt gave Maria the suspicion that the three girls had been talking about her. And probably their father, too.

"If I catch you three up again tonight, your study hour will be moved to first thing in the morning and be _doubled_," said Maria firmly. If she hadn't been having a restless night and being frustrated already, she might have been easier on them, but that wasn't the case. "You wouldn't like that, would you?"

Immediately, Louisa and Brigitta moved to their respective beds, and Liesl settled down under the covers, turning off the light.

"All right," said Maria, satisfied. "I'm sorry to snap, but really girls, enough is enough. Good night now."

"Good night, Fraulein," they all murmured as Maria shut the door behind him. Just to make sure, Maria walked away towards her room forcefully, making sure her steps would be heard in the next room. When she was out of earshot, Maria slipped out of her slippers and tiptoed back to the door of the older girls' room. Placing her ear on the door, she could hear no sounds apart from steadying breathing, and no light was spilling out from the gaps in the doorway. Now fully satisfied, Maria tiptoed away towards her slippers.

Still feeling restless, Maria decided to get a piece of fruit to eat before bed - she'd skipped supper, after all. So she headed down the stairs quietly and made her way towards the kitchen. Her route required her to pass by the Captain's study. She silenced her steps as she passed, because she could see light pouring out from the bottom gap in the doorway. In passing, she could hear the sound of low voices, which she assumed would be the Captain and Max. Her heart again fluttered at the thought of her employer – he was the reason for her restlessness that night because thoughts of him would not leave her mind now that she was alone. She'd thought some peace and quiet would settle her mind, but not this night. Not letting a frustrated sigh escape her lips, Maria rushed past the door and headed to the kitchen.

Coming back after having eaten an apple, Maria again made to walk past the study door. Just as she came to it, Maria heard the Captain practically shout in a loud voice, "I don't _know _why I danced with her, Max!"

Maria stopped dead in her tracks. She knew that the Captain had probably danced with Elsa, even other women, tonight, but he would only say that about one partner he'd had. Maria came closer to the door to listen, unable to resist.

"I think it's that simple, Georg," said Max, in an uncharacteristically calm and soothing voice. "You wanted to dance with her, and that's all there was to it."

"She was trying to teach Kurt," said the Captain. His voice was a bit . . . _unsteady_, yes that was the right word, which was unusual for him. It piqued Maria's curiosity even more. "I remember thinking I would show him and the children the proper way to dance a Laendler. _That's_ what my reason must have been!"

"Sounds more like an _excuse_," said Max with a chuckle.

Maria heart the Captain curse almost under his breath, and Maria winced. She hated words like that. "Well, whyever I did it . . . I swear, Max, I don't know what happened. We were so close, closer than I've ever been to her. At that moment I wanted to just . . . hold her closer, kiss her, carry her away . . . Just the smell of her was intoxicating and . . . I didn't want to let her go."

Maria's eyes widened, and her hand went to her rapidly beating heart. Was he in earnest? Was this all true? She was too shocked to think beyond that.

"Georg," said Max in that cautious voice again. "I think you've had about enough of that, the bottle's nearly empty."

Maria's eyes went from wide to narrowed. Had he been drinking? If he had, how much of this were true at all?

"Fine, fine, I'll have a splitting headache in the morning anyway," said Georg, his voice still a bit unsteady. He didn't _sound _drunk, at least not _completely_ drunk, and God knows how many times she'd heard _that _tone of voice in a man. "But anyway, Max, I think . . . I must have shown my thoughts in my face because she backed away, and she looked so frightened and confused."

"Well, she probably hasn't danced with a man in a long time. Poor thing, no wonder she didn't want to go to dinner! Aside from my own reasons, I wanted to show that young woman off a little – she really is amazing."

Maria smiled at the compliment from Max, but her heart went at hyper-speed again when she barely heard the Captain murmur, "Yes, absolutely amazing . . ."

"And as for your thoughts . . . Georg, you're obviously attracted to her. I could deduce that even before tonight."

"How?"

"My friend, one doesn't normally stare at their children's governess so much unless he finds her very attractive."

Maria blushed. He'd been looking at her, too? It hadn't only been her?

Georg, again, groaned loudly, almost a growl. Somehow, Maria could picture him raking his hands through his hair. "Oh, Max, why is this happening to me? Who is this girl to just burst into my life and cause this in me? I was perfectly fine until . . . Perhaps this is just an infatuation that will pass."

"Well, if you're planning to propose to Elsa, I would hope so for _your _sake."

Georg nearly gasped. "Elsa! My God, how could I have forgotten her now? Oh, and she saw us dancing, what was I _thinking_? What must she think of me? This is all my fault – she deserves better treatment than that! I ought to propose tomorrow, it's what she wants me to do."

"Georg, that is _not_ a decision you should make in this state."

"You're right, you're right . . . Oh, my head is already splitting from this complicated situation! This little infatuation is the last thing I need! If I were smart, I would just take the girl to bed and be done with it!"

Every cell in Maria's body went cold, except for the burning in her eyes. She felt like she'd just been shoved, or slapped across the face. Her hands clapped over her mouth as she backed away from the door in horror. Her mind raced, and she couldn't hear anything anymore _He hadn't just said that, he couldn't have just said that!_ Her hands still covering her mouth, she ran, not caring if her footsteps made noise, and didn't stop until she'd closed the door behind her in her room.

Leaning against the doorway, she let her sobs tear from her throat as she sank down to the floor. She hugged her legs to her chest and cried into her knees, rocking herself back and forth.

Maria'd never been more scared or confused in her life until this evening, this night, this moment. Why had she come out of that garden when she did? Then none of this would have happened! She could have remained blissfully ignorant of everything, including what was in her own mind.

She wanted to run, now, back to the Abbey, where she knew she could feel safe, away from all of this. But then she thought of the children – how could she abandon them like that? No, she had to stay. Her job, duty, was to look after those wonderful children, who'd done nothing wrong in this whole, complicated situation.

Maria practically crawled back into her bed, holding her pillow tightly to her chest, trying to stop her sobs and sleep. But all she could picture was his face, and all she could hear was his voice, in that awful and harsh tone, saying he should "just take her to bed and be done with it."

* * *

><p>"Georg!" Max snapped angrily, almost yelled at his friend. "She is a <em>postulant <em>for God's sake, and even if she wasn't, how could you think of doing something like that to her?"

Georg, who'd snapped in frustration and whiskey, instantly regretted what he'd said, and put his face in his hands. "I know, I didn't mean it, I could never . . . not to her . . . Oh, God, Max . . ."

Max took a breath to steady his own anger for his friend's impulsive words, but he knew it was only a result of the whiskey. So he placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "Now is a good time for you to go to bed – you need to clear your head and get your own mind back."

Georg nodded and rose with some difficulty from the couch. Max rose with him, taking the whiskey bottle with him.

"Thank you, Max, I . . . I'm grateful to you," Georg managed, his head splitting. It was rare he drank something that strong, he hadn't even drank enough to get drunk, but his initial frustration just made for gunpowder to a spark.

Max nodded and headed for the kitchen, where he dumped the rest of the blasted liquid down the sink. After that, he was able to go up to bed and get a good night's sleep – he'd only had one or two sips.

Georg managed to fall asleep fairly quickly, but his dreams were haunted and plagued, and couldn't exactly be called restful.

Poor Maria barely slept at all.

**A/N: **_I made one of the genres "angst" for a reason . . . What will the morning after bring, I wonder? I love reviews!_


	5. Chapter 5

The morning after the party in the Von Trapp villa dawned warm, the sky covered completely with heavy clouds ready to burst with rain at any moment, or lightning if it got warmer. The atmosphere was restless, but it hardly reached the rooms of most of the occupants. Each person in the house had come to an unconscious understanding: we can all sleep in a little bit today.

Georg stood in the drawing room, looking out the window with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. The ache in his head had finally subsided from the previous evening – how stupid he'd been to have that whiskey in his cabinet! Never again would he drink that blasted liquid.

He reflected back to the breakfast he'd just left from with the rest of the family. Most of the children looked tired, and he knew that none of them had gone to bed on time. The older girls especially looked exhausted; no doubt they'd stayed up to either watch the party from above or speak of their excitement and daydreams of one day attending such a party themselves. But Georg didn't want to think about when those days would come – he'd wasted enough time away from his children as it was.

Max and Elsa both looked as though they'd had a good night's sleep. Elsa, especially, seemed more happy than he'd seen her since he'd brought her to Salzburg. Seeing her like that reaffirmed the resolution in his mind to propose. This arrangement could work: she and the children could learn to love each other, and she would be a perfect match for him and his position. It was the right thing to do, it had to be . . .

As if on cue, Elsa's voice sounded from the open doorway. "There you are!" she said pleasantly.

Georg turned around and gave her a smile. It was nice to see how happy she seemed to be here; it would make this easier. _Why should this be hard in the first place? _He pushed the involuntary thought resolutely from his mind as he approached her, kissing her hand. "Elsa, I would like to talk to you."

"So would I, Georg," she replied, and he motioned to the sofa. But before he could start, Elsa immediately started, "I want to tell you how much I've enjoyed my time here in your home; it really is lovely here."

On the last observation, Elsa turned towards the window, contemplating how best to break her decision to Georg gently. He, in turn, took her pause as an indication for him to ask the question they'd been dancing around for over a year.

"I'm very glad to hear you say that, Elsa," said Georg, and reached for one of her hands. "I'd like to know if you like it here enough to stay here."

Elsa turned towards him, smiled gently and patted their hands. Georg became confused by the look of sadness in her eyes, and was not prepared for what she said next. "Oh, Georg . . . you see, I've been doing some thinking, and . . . fond as I am of you, I really don't think that a serious relationship between us would work."

Georg was surprised; up until now she'd always been open to that idea, even after she had come to the villa. What had changed in her? Suddenly, he could see his well-constructed plan beginning to crumble. "I'm not sure I understand, Elsa," he told her honestly, and Elsa smiled sadly again.

"Well, you're much too independent, for one, and I . . . I need someone who needs me desperately." She added as a joking afterthought: "Or at least needs my _money _desperately." Both shared a small smile. "And I belong in Vienna, Georg; lovely as it is here, the city is where I feel most at home."

Georg nodded. Both reasons made perfect sense to him, and he found himself feeling more defeated about his plans falling apart than Elsa not loving him . . . Perhaps because he did not, much as he tried, love her. As they looked at each other, both saw the revelation in the other's eyes, and both understood and started clean: friends.

"I've enjoyed every moment together, I do thank you for that," said Elsa sincerely, squeezing his hand. Georg nodded.

"I wasn't lying, Elsa, when I told you that you did bring some meaning back into my life," he said, for it was true. She had helped pull his head out of the sand, so to speak.

Elsa nodded, leaned in and kissed his cheek: a blessing and farewell. She turned to look out the window again. It looked like it would rain any moment, but that wasn't the only thing she noticed. She also saw the slim figure of a young woman walking slowing, her palms pressed together, her lips murmuring against her fingers. _In prayer,_ Elsa thought. The poor girl had looked so worn out at breakfast, as if she'd slept on a bed of rocks and cried, too. Something was wrong, she could sense that. Hopefully, she could help Maria in some way when she said farewell to her.

Georg did not look out the window, for Elsa only looked for a few seconds, taking it in. She then turned back to him. "Now, since those clouds will no doubt start pouring at any moment, I think I will wait until the skies clear before returning to Vienna where I belong. I'm sure Max can drive me to the train station when I'm ready. Might as well start packing now." With a last squeeze of Georg's hand, Elsa rose from the couch and headed for the door.

"Elsa," called Georg after her, rising from the sofa. She paused and turned around. "I truly am sorry, that I can't give you what you deserve."

Elsa gave him a tender look. "Nothing has been broken but an idea without a foundation, therefore nothing of consequence. You will always be a dear friend, and that is enough for me. I'm glad that I've been able to help you in some way, and I think my help has paved the way for something wonderful for you."

Her last words seemed somewhat cryptic to him. "You think so?"

Elsa gave a cryptic smile to match her tone. "I _know _so." With that, she left the room, leaving Georg alone to contemplate what those words meant.

Restlessly, he began to pace, his hands clasping behind his back. Well, the plan he had so carefully envisioned for his family this morning – hell, for an entire year – had just fallen apart, but was he truly sad about it? What would have happened if it had been fulfilled? Would they have been truly happy? The answer was simple: Elsa was a woman of the city, and she would have wilted here in the country like an exotic flower in the arctic. As for him . . . well, he didn't love her. Fond as he was of her in return, he didn't love her. He never expected himself to love someone like that again, after Agathe's passing.

Georg came to the window and stopped suddenly when he spotted Maria, walking idly out from under a tree. At breakfast, Georg had been startled by her expression: worn, tired, sad but trying desperately to hide it. He'd never seen Maria sad, and she was never one to cover up her emotions. Now, outside with no one with her, her face reflected some terrible turmoil, and Georg's heart twisted. He had an urge to go out there, comfort her somehow, hold her close and soothe her . . .

Just then, rain began to fall steadily, a good pour. Maria looked up as if in awe at the heavens opening above her. Georg watched as her eyes closed, and her whole body seemed to unclench, relax, open, inviting the drops to cleanse her body. Georg could swear he could hear and feel the sound of that sigh, almost a moan; for a wild moment, he imagined her making a sound like that for an entirely different reason, that her body would relax and open for the same reason.

The rain was coming steadily now, drenching her and soaking through her dress, one of her lighter ones. It reminded Georg of the day she and the children had fallen into the lake, and she had come out and faced his anger, dripping wet but with dignity and strength. That had frustrated him at the time – this young woman was telling him off, something not even his own men in the navy dared to do – but that wasn't the only reason he'd been frustrated, he realized now. The lake-water had soaked completely through the fabric of her dress, giving him a very good insight into her figure and the curves of her body. Seeing that again now from the window, he felt desire starting to boil in his body.

Then, Georg saw Maria's lips curve upwards in a slight smile. Her mouth opened, and her tongue slowly slid out to catch the raindrops.

This time he _did _hear a moan, but of desire – and this one came from _his _throat. His hand clutched one of the curtains as he felt the crotch of his trousers getting tighter. All he knew now was that he wanted her.

He watched her give a happy spin on the spot, her arms outstretched to embrace the rainfall. She stopped with her body facing the window, and she saw him watching her. He could not wipe the look of desire from his face in time, for she instantly seemed to close up. She had been open and now she was closed: her arms wrapped around her torso, and her head ducked as she rushed out of his view, presumably to head back inside.

Only then did he come to his senses again. He cursed loudly and began to pace the room. What was happening to him? How could he be thinking and feeling such things for this young woman, a postulant? But then, Georg realized that he would feel guilty just for feeling these things at all, for anybody. And not just the lust and desire, but something more, something . . . more substantial. And that scared him.

Georg realized that, like Elsa, he would have to wait for the rain to stop before he could leave. Only then could he do what he should have done four years ago.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **_Sorry, I know it's been a while, but with the holiday and me struggling to get this chapter right, it's finally up. Please enjoy, and I'll update as soon as I can. I LOVE REVIEWS!_

"Are you sure about this, Brigitta?" asked Friedrich from the foot of Louisa's bed where he was sitting.

"I'm positive!" Brigitta replied, sitting with Gretl on her own bed, brushing her little sister's hair. "Did you see the way they were looking at each other? And her face went red!"

"What does her face going red have to do with it?" asked Kurt, confused, sitting with Marta on Liesl's bed with their older sister.

"I've read about plenty of girls in my books that blush when they are falling in love," said Brigitta with finality.

"Is that true, Liesl?" asked Louisa, a slight teasing in her voice and eyes.

Liesl, in response, blushed herself and stuttered, "W-well, I've never really . . . thought about it . . ."

"See?" said Brigitta triumphantly, indicating Liesl's pink face. Liesl, in turn, hid her face behind the book she was currently engrossed in. "What are you reading, Liesl? I don't think I've gotten to that one yet."

"There's a book in this house that you haven't read?" Louisa asked Brigitta, teasingly, and everyone shared a laugh.

"It's a book by Charlotte Brontë called _Jane Eyre_," replied Liesl, her eyes still on her book.

"What's it about?" asked Gretl.

Liesl got a slightly mischievous smile on her face as she looked at her siblings. "I'm only about halfway through, but so far, it's about a poor young woman in 19th century England. She's hired as a governess at a huge mansion owned by an older rich man called Mr. Rochester. Though they seem so different, in terms of class and background, they fall in love with each other."

All of the older children looked intrigued and excited by the description and glanced at each other. "Then . . . you think it's possible?" asked Kurt.

"I think it's _true_," clarified Brigitta with a smile.

"Let's just hope that the people in that book end up happily ever after," said Frederich, which earned him a shove from Louisa.

"Don't worry, I've checked," said Liesl with a triumphant smile. "They get married in the end." She paused as she realized that they all wanted a similar ending to their own story. "Married . . . oh my goodness . . . what if Father and Fraulein Maria . . ."

"Then she would never have to leave!" said Marta with a huge smile. "She would be our mother!"

"She already_ is_ our mother!" said Gretl matter-of-factly, indignantly. Her siblings all looked at her, at first shocked but then acknowledging how true that statement was. From the very first day, Fraulein Maria had become a mother to all seven of them. Of course, none of them – especially the older ones – would ever forget Agathe, the woman who had given them life, and who had loved them and taken care of them. Her death had created a tear in the lives of the whole family. But Maria had sewn it up with a thread all her own: she had become a true member of their family through her love and understanding of them all – a true mother.

"I think you're right, Gretl," said Kurt, smiling, and Marta nodded beside him.

After a moment of silence amongst the siblings, Louisa spoke up, "Well, what are we going to do? I believe they're in love like the rest of you, but I don't see them doing anything about it yet."

"They may not even know it themselves," said Brigitta thoughtfully. "Or perhaps they're too scared to admit it."

"Why would they be scared?" asked Marta, ever innocent.

"Well, love is a big thing, sweetie," said Liesl, in a motherly voice. "And big things can be scary sometimes, right?"

Marta and Gretl nodded.

"So, think we should do something to, um, bring them closer to that recognition?" asked Louisa, already looking determined.

"There's just one problem," said Kurt despondently.

"What?"

"Baroness Schraeder."

All of the children shared first a moment of silence, and then an audible groan. Just then, a knock came to the door and all yelled, "Come in!" rather quickly and loudly. The conversation was abruptly over, especially when they saw it was Fraulein Maria who opened the door.

"Well! And what are you seven up to?" asked Maria with a smile, crossing her arms.

"Nothing, just talking," said Kurt innocently.

"Are you feeling better, Fraulein Maria?" asked Gretl, going up to her governess to offer a hug. "You didn't look well at breakfast."

Maria couldn't honestly answer in the affirmative, but she could safely say she wasn't feeling ill. "I am much better, Gretl." She turned to Liesl. "Thank you again for giving me some time to myself this morning. I just hope we've all learned our lesson about staying up too late past our bedtime." Looking around at all of the children, everyone nodded.

"What are we going to do today, Fraulein Maria?" asked Frederich.

"We certainly can't go outside with that rain," said Kurt gloomily.

An inspiration came to Maria. "It's very warm outside, and the rain feels very nice. If you all wore your playclothes, raincoats and rubbers, I'm sure we could play outside as long as we're careful."

Now the children looked excited. "Have you been outside, Fraulein Maria?" asked Marta, pointing to Maria's still drying hair.

"Mmm-hmm," said Maria, pushing away the memory of what she had seen from one of the windows, causing her to run back inside, dry off and change. "But even if we do go outside, we'll wait until after lunch, while the warm air is still here, all right?"

"Can you ask father now, then?" asked Liesl. "There's still time before lunch."

The thought of being alone with her boss now, even if he behaved like he always had, was not acceptable to Maria right now – no way was she ready to be alone with him or close to him. "Why don't _you _all ask your father? With all seven of you there, it would be hard to refuse you."

"But Fraulein Maria, you can convince him too!" Brigitta persisted, getting a spark of inspiration in her eyes that Maria couldn't quite read but her siblings could. "After all, remember the day he came back from Vienna?"

"Children –" Maria began, not even knowing how she would convince them otherwise, but a knock was heard at the bedroom door. Instantly, she became terrified it might be the Captain. Who else could it be? Praying it was not him, perhaps Frau Schmidt announcing an early lunch, Maria took a deep breath and opened the door.

Her prayer was answered, but in a completely unexpected way. There stood Elsa Schraeder. "Baro – I mean Elsa! What a surprise!"

Elsa gave a small smile and asked, "May I come in?"

Completely perplexed, Maria nodded and stepped aside. The children looked equally as surprised to find the Baroness in their room – she looked so out of place in her spotless and elegant attire. They could all feel it, and Maria just felt sad for her. Clearing her throat, she reminded the children to all give her polite and surprised greetings.

"Hello, children," said Elsa, looking uncomfortable, a little guilty, but resolved. "I know it must seem . . . unusual for me to come in her now. I know, since I've come here, I've made very little attempt to get to know you all. I'm truly sorry for that."

The children listened, and the surprised and suspicious looks started to melt away.

"Especially since I will be going back to Vienna once the rain clears up," finished Elsa. "This visit has been lovely, but it is time for me to return home now."

"Will you be coming back, Baroness?" asked Liesl, wanting to know for sure. Their feelings towards the Baroness were complicated. She was the woman their father would abandon them for all the past year, always preferring her company to theirs. Of course there would be a bitterness there from the start. And through her visit, Elsa had been polite and nice to them, but Elsa had said it herself: she'd not gone out of her way to get close to them. Since the children had Fraulein Maria, that fact didn't bother them. But now, she was giving them a genuine apology.

Elsa gave a small smile. "Not for any more long visits, I'm afraid."

Maria's jaw dropped. Then that meant . . . but she had been sure that . . . she didn't know what to feel about this all.

"I wonder, children, if you might grant a small request before I leave. When you performed for me on the day of my arrival, I was so touched and impressed. I never properly thanked you for that. I would very much like it if I could hear you seven sing again before I go."

"Of course, Baroness," said Brigitta, looking at her siblings, who all nodded. Suddenly, they were feeling much more fond of the Baroness than they ever had before, even Louisa, who even gave Elsa a small smile.

"Children," said Maria, taking command. "Why don't you all prepare yourselves downstairs, and I'll get my guitar."

The children all nodded their heads and everyone left the room. Elsa followed Maria. "You look extremely shocked, my dear," said Elsa, when they had reached her bedroom.

"Well, Elsa," said Maria, picking up her guitar. "I'm honestly more than a little confused and shocked. It just seems like . . . I mean, the party last night was such a success, and it was all for you, so why –" Maria stopped herself just in time. It wasn't her business at all, but it seemed that Elsa would tell her anyways.

"I know my coming here with Georg implied strongly that he intended to make me a permanent part of this house and his family. In fact, until very recently, it's what I've been thinking. For a long time, I thought we were a perfect match, and I thought that when he invited me to the villa. But since I've been here, I've discovered that the only thing I feel for Georg, wonderful man that he is, is a dear friendship and nothing more. Much as we both hoped, I can never be what he needs, what his children need."

As she spoke, Elsa looked closely at Maria to see how she would react to this news. After all, Elsa was essentially telling Maria that Georg was now a free man. But Maria was not aware of her feelings yet, at least she could not define them. Maria just looked a mixture of surprised and confused: less about what Elsa had said, but how she herself felt about this.

"Um, pardon my being forward, Elsa, but what made you realize this?" Maria really didn't mean to be nosy, but she felt as if she had to know what was going on. In the span of less than twenty-four hours, so much had changed within everyone, including herself.

Elsa just gave a gentle and cryptic smile and said, "Well, I realized that one shouldn't marry one person when in love with another."

Maria's eyebrows rose up in even more shock. _Who is she in love with then?_

Elsa seemed to read her thoughts and had to work very hard not to laugh a little. She was so naïve, really, it was almost charming. But she knew that Maria would have to discover these feelings for herself; if Elsa showed them to her, she would deny it, get scared, and most likely run. No . . . she had done her job here, and now the two would have to make this discovery on their own. She knew they would.

Smiling, Elsa approached Maria and offered her hand. "I'm very glad to have met you here, Maria, and please keep in touch, if ever you have any need of me."

Maria decided to leave her confusion and curiosity to herself, and took Elsa's hand. "I will, Elsa. I'm very glad to have met you, too, and I'm sorry things didn't turn out the way you had planned."

Elsa scoffed cheerfully. "I'm not sorry, I'm just relieved I found out before it became too late. In time, you will too." She kissed both of Maria's cheeks in the fashion of the upper-class. "Come, Maria, I would like to see what those children have in store for us."

Maria and Elsa walked down the stairs in silence. Elsa looked very content and pleased; Maria's mind was raging with what this could all mean . . .


	7. Chapter 7

_"Auf Wiedersein, _darling," said Elsa to Georg, after she had kissed his cheek in blessing and farewell, and just before boarding the first-class car of the train to Vienna. Georg stayed on the platform until her window was out of sight.

_Ah, Elsa, _Georg thought as he made his way out of the station. _I'm sorry we couldn't be what we wanted to be for each other, and for ourselves. _But he knew that Elsa would be all right. She was going back to where she belonged, and would thrive in her glittering salons.

As Georg began his drive, he thought back to when Elsa had said goodbye to everyone else in the house. Her good-bye to Maria had surprised him: Elsa had kissed both of Maria's cheeks and given her a sisterly embrace. When had they suddenly become so friendly with each other? Also, the children had seemed much more open and warm to her – and vice versa – since the previous rainy day. Had he been so wrapped up in his own frustrations since the party he didn't notice anything anymore? Most likely.

He arrived at his destination in what seemed like no time, which unnerved him. A flower stand stood just outside the structure – _Good place to set up shop _he thought vaguely. Approaching the old woman who ran it, Georg asked for lilies, the most beautiful she had. _They were, after all, her favorite flower . . ._

Holding the lilies in his hands, Georg walked around the pretty church to the graveyard behind. The gate was rusty from the previous day's rain, and made a noise as Georg went in. He knew the way well, and once he spotted the tombstone he was looking for, he barely took his eyes off it.

The stone itself was a rose-colored amber, with a curved upper half and engraved crosses framing the name:

_Agathe Whitehead Von Trapp_

_Beloved Wife and Mother_

_March 2 1899-January 25, 1934_

"Hello, darling," murmured Georg softly as he placed the lilies over her grave. "I know it's been a few months, and I apologize for that."

He seated himself on the stone bench opposite the grave, leaning forward and folding his hands in front of him. Looking at the gravestone, he shook his head. For something to commemorate the dead, he never would have imagined something made of stone for his Agathe. The only thing that was hard about her was her devotion, completely unbreakable: to him, to her children, to the ones she loved. How gentle and soft-spoken she was, yet the epitome of a well-bred lady. There had been a grace about her at even the age of eighteen, when he had first met her, that was beyond her years. It was what he, a young sailor fresh off the boat, had been attracted to in the first place. They had complemented each other perfectly, yin and yang. Her family had been wealthy, and at first were against the match because his family was not as wealthy as theirs (his titles and fortune had come after he'd been decorated). But nothing could have stopped those two young people – they were meant for each other.

As Georg let himself remember, after so long, his heart began to hurt but he also felt something slowly slide off his soul, like a burden being loosened. He had some things to say, too, to his late wife.

"I've been angry with you, Agathe," he finally admitted, though he felt horrible about it. "I know it was unjustified. You did not ask to get sick . . . you didn't ask to be taken, and I know you didn't want to be. At least, by the very end, you'd accepted it, knowing your fever would cool, you would be healed and sent up to our Father." His throat was starting to close up, but he had to admit his worst sin yet. "I . . . I broke my promise to you, Agathe. I wish I had a better excuse than my grief and stubborness, but I don't, and it isn't acceptable. You asked me to love and care for our children after you had passed, to give them all of myself, and watch them grow . . . Oh, Agathe, forgive me . . . After you passed, I just . . . couldn't bare to look at them, I could only see you in them . . . Liesl's face, Louisa's hair, Kurt's eyes . . . As if you were haunting me, and the thought of you hurt too much to bear . . ."

By now, sobs were raking through his chest. They were dry; somehow, he couldn't find the tears. He was almost hyperventilating from the sobs; thankfully, he was the only one in the graveyard.

"I p-pushed them away, treated them like a crew of . . . misbehaving sailors, with a whistle to boot! How can you ever forgive me? How can I ever forgive myself?"

He buried his face in his hands. All at once, his guilt came to him full-force, and he felt sick. "I'm sorry, Agathe . . . I'm so sorry . . . so sorry . . ."

He let himself sob for a while, ghost sobs without tears. He searched for them but couldn't find them, but the sobs were very real. When he'd calmed down again, Georg raised his head and looked at the gravestone. The color was the only comfort; he knew he'd picked it out for a reason. Even against stone, the color was warm and rich, just like his late wife. He knew he'd picked it out for a reason.

The smallest of smiles came to his face. "Do you know what it finally took for me to come to my senses, Agathe? This will-o-the-wisp young woman in the ugliest of dresses, come as governess to our children. I thought she wouldn't even make it through the first day, but . . . the children took to her at once . . . she gave them what I refused to give them . . . and though it took a screaming match in which she held her ground so bravely, she made me realize finally all that I'd been doing wrong . . . When I heard them singing like that, Agathe, and I saw them . . . it was as if I was seeing you again . . . and for the first time, the pain was gone . . . There was only the love that I'd buried, the regret that had just awakened, and a strong desire to make things right . . . All thanks to _her . . ._"

Thoughts of _her _came into his mind, from the moment he first saw her pantomiming in the ballroom to the last moment he'd seen her embracing Elsa. From the very start, this young woman had somehow not only seen right through his mask, but slipped under it as well. Thoughts of her had come unbidden to his mind while he'd been away in Vienna. And when he'd come back . . . well, he certainly had a new-found respect for this young woman: a will-o-the-wisp but wth a will of iron.

Then, as he'd reconnected with his children and spent more time with them and their governess, the thoughts came more frequently, seeping into his dreams. The respect he had for her had grown into real care and frienship. The night of the puppet show, he'd felt something he did not ever expect to feel: desire. It tormented him each night as the feeling had gotten stronger and his dreams more vivid. During the day, he felt he had to be near to her (thankfully the children had provided an excuse). He found himself growing more and more curious about this enigma of a woman. And the night of the party, he really had wanted to dance with her, and enjoyed doing it! The only other woman he'd ever enjoyed dancing with had been his Agathe, and this discovery had scared him more than he'd ever been since the war.

Georg focused on the gravestone again, and began to talk of his worst struggle. "Agathe, before you passed, you made me promise one more thing: to find a wife, a mother for our children, and to love again. When I met Elsa, I thought I would take care of that promise, but I have something more to apologize for . . . Since your passing, I _never _expected or even considered falling in love again. It felt like a betrayal to you in my mind, because I never quite faced up to the fact that you had let me go . . . But you did, Agathe, on your deathbed. You let me go and gave me your blessing to live and love to the fullest . . . I just didn't want to accept it, because that would mean that you were really gone . . ."

Georg got up from the bench and knelt down in front of the grave. Idly, he traced Agathe's name, carved in elegant script that matched her personality to a T. That and the color . . . matched her.

"Did you send her to us, Agathe? To remind me of the promises I'd made and refused to keep, unfairly to you? Did you send us an angel to save us? Because she has, in a way . . ."

His hand dropped, and he began to arrange the flowers in front of her grave. "The hardest part of love is letting go: what you said has been absolutely true. And I've made a discovery of my own now: love is not love if it is selfish. Agathe, I've been so selfish, locking myself away, drowning in my grief . . . These past four years, I haven't really loved you by doing that . . . but now, our love has come full circle: I can finally put what you need before what I need: I can let you go to God now."

As he spoke, he slowly slid his wedding ring from his finger, and buried it in the soft soil before her grave. Somewhere below was her ring, which she'd wanted buried with her. He looked down at his now bare hand, looking at the imprint in the skin the ring had made. Since it had been placed on his hand eighteen years ago, he'd never taken it off until now. It called for a ring to be placed there, and perhaps soon there would be . . .

Now he had come to the most difficult question, or rather confirmation, he needed to be sure of, before doing anything else. "Do you mind, Agathe? When you made me promise, you were still alive, and that was four years ago . . . so I feel like I need to be sure. Do I have your blessing?"

A few moments and nothing happened. Then, a soft summer breeze came and ruffled the bushes and branches, bent the grass, and caressed his cheek, reminding him of her kiss. He heaved a huge sigh of relief, his burden finally falling completely off his shoulders. He traced her name again. "Thank you, Agathe. You know I will never forget you."

Somewhere in the continuing breeze, Georg could swear he could feel a gentle, rich, soft voice say, _I know . . . Thank you._

Perhaps now, Agathe could truly be at peace.

Georg stood up, kissed his fingers, and placed them on top of the grave. "Good-bye, my love," he said, his voice rich and husky. The breeze stayed with him all the way back to the car.

* * *

><p>He hadn't expected his journey to take the time that it had. Georg had managed to come back before lunch-time after all, but just barely. Right away, after he came out of the car, Georg could hear the sound of his children's laughter and playing coming from the back. Smiling, he quickly walked around the house, and watched the precious sight from the safety of the shade of a big tree.<p>

They were playing tag, that much was obvious, and having a great time. Ever competitive, Louisa chased Frederich with a determined look on her face. Marta managed to catch Kurt by jumping onto his back, and Georg smiled at the sight: Marta only came fully out of her shell for few people and few moments. Liesl and Brigitta were squaring off with a tree between them, daring each other without words to be the first to attempt to run.

Gretl, little Gretl, then burst through a flower bush and made her way across the clearing, running and laughing. Then, Maria came into view, chasing after the little one with a smile. She caught Gretl, with a triumphant "Got you!", and swept Gretl off her feet. Both shared a laugh as Maria spun Gretl around in the safety of her arms, both bathed in bright sunlight. Maria's short golden hair in the sunlight gave the effect of a halo . . . like the halo of an angel . . . this beautiful, warm, smiling, true, faithful, loving angel . . . truly a gift from above . . .

Georg's heart, so newly reborn, now belonged to this woman. For the first time, he allowed himself to see that as he watched her embracing Gretl in the sunshine.


	8. Chapter 8

"Fraulein Maria, will you please read us a story?" asked Brigitta as she unbraided her long dark hair.

Maria gave a little laugh as she brushed out Louisa's hair. Her golden hair always managed to get tangled from all of her activity, and she only trusted Maria to do it rightly while being gentle. "I usually get that question from Marta and Gretl, and to my knowledge, you usually like to read the stories yourselves!"

"Can we listen while you read the little ones their story, then?" asked Louisa, turning around to face her governess.

Maria raised her eyebrows, looking at the three oldest girls. "All right, I don't see why not. Are you all suddenly eager to be so little again?"

Liesl shrugged. "Sometimes we do, I suppose."

Maria nodded in silent understanding. "Should we invite the boys, as well?"

"Nah," said Louisa unconcernedly. "I bet they're already asleep – that dessert was so rich and we ran a lot today. They'd be crabby to wake up."

Maria laughed, and she revelled in it. Alone with the children like this was the only time she felt at ease, safe, and relatively content. Left on her own is when her thoughts would start to stray down dangerous roads. So if the children wanted a story, she would give them a story!

"What story would you all like to hear?" asked Maria, when she was settled between Mart and Gretl in her own bed – with six people they all voted for a big bed to sit on together.

Brigitta pulled a storybook out from behind her back and handed it to Maria, who looked at the cover. "_Beauty and the Beast_? All right then, it's been a long time since I've heard this story . . ."

She barely saw Liesl, Brigitta and Louisa exchange a private smile, but didn't choose to wonder about it. Opening the lovely storybook, she commenced. _This really is a beautiful love story_ Maria thought, as she read them the fairy tale. Beautiful girl, misunderstood by her neighborhood, must come to an enchanted castle to save her father's life, owned by a horrible Beast. At first, they just argue and couldn't be more different, but a little change makes them realize how similar they are, and they become friends, then something more . . . Maria felt a strange tugging and singing in her heart as she read this story, but she didn't know why. All she knew was that by the end she had tears in her eyes, and thought it was the most beautiful story she'd ever read.

"What did you think, Fraulein Maria?" asked Brigitta, who was smiling again.

Maria was surprised: usually, it was _she _who asked the children that question. "Um . . . it's a lovely story, Brigitta. Why this one?"

Brigitta shrugged, and the other girls looked just as innocent. Giving up, Maria looked at the two nearly sleeping little ones on either side of her. Nodding her head for Liesl to help her, Maria took Marta in her arms, and Liesl complied by picking up Gretl.

Maria walked back to her own room with a sigh of resignation. She was not looking forward to falling asleep and dreaming of who-knows-what. Lately, her dreams all consistd of her wandering through the gardens and extensive grounds of the Von Trapp villa. There was mist, swirling silver and gold mist, and every appearing and disappearing was the figure and face of the Captain. But what Maria couldn't figure out was whether she was running from him or, even worse, running to him.

But why in the world would she want to run to him? Each time she asked that question, her heart would cry out something to her, shake her core. But her mind either could not or would not interpret what it said. Maria had never been more confused in all her life.

Deciding that a nice cup of tea might be soothing, Maria quietly made her way down the stairs. Of course, her route to the kitchen required her to pass the Captain's study, but no lights spilled out from under the door that night. She breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing as she slowed her pace. Maria approached the kitchen, preparing to make the sharp turn into the room.

What happened next was completely unexpected and unwelcome.

* * *

><p>Georg poured the scalding hot water, fresh from the stove, into his tea cup, the tea bag already resting inside. It would cool off enough for him to drink by the time he reached his study – he preferred his tea very warm. Perhaps this tea would help him to settle his mind enough to fall asleep before midnight, for once.<p>

Newly determined, he walked for the door with a sure step. But just as he turned the corner, he collided with a small, warm body: her scent was enough to tell him who it was. Both let out exclamations of shock, and then pain. Some of the hot liquid from his cup sloshed and spilled out, a little landing on the front of his night-shirt. He could feel the uncomfortable heat seeping through to his chest, but thankfully the fabric saved him from being burned by the very hot liquid.

"Fraulein!" he exclaimed – he couldn't help but be a little annoyed as well as surprised. "What in the world are you do – " But he stopped as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could clearly see her now. She stood hunched over, her left hand clutching her right wrist. The back of her right hand glistened with the newly fallen, extremely hot liquid. Maria was breathing very hard, trying to control a cry or sob that wanted to break free from her throat.

Any annoyed feelings he had towards her were gone in an instant, replaced immediately with concern and guilt. "Oh, Fraulein! I'm so sorry! Come inside, I'll help you."

If Maria had not been so concentrated on the pain of the minor burn on the back of her hand, she would have argued that she could easily take care of herself. But she could concentrate on nothing but not crying in front of him. So she let the Captain take her gently but firmly by the elbow and lead her into the kitchen and to the sink. Setting down his nearly empty tea cup, he turned on the faucet to its coldest setting. "Hold your hand under the water, Fraulein, while I go get some ointment and bandages."

Maria nodded, eagerly putting her scalding flesh under the icy flow. It provided relief little by little, and she managed to swallow the lump in her throat.

Once he saw that Maria's hand was under the water and she didn't plan on moving it, Georg practically ran to the medicine cabinets where Frau Schmidt kept the first aid supplies. He felt horrible, since this was all his fault: he had been walking too quickly, too lost in his own thoughts to hear her approaching. And why did he have to make his tea so damn hot?

He came back to her with a bottle of proper ointment in one hand and some gauze and medical tape in the other. Georg set them on the kitchen table and grabbed a towel from the counter. Looking at Maria, he could see that she was still breathing slowly and deeply, but the immediate and harsh pain was receding from her face.

"Is it feeling any better?" he asked, the gentle tone of his voice like a low rich bell to her ears. Her heart seemed to shiver in pleasure, but she barely noticed.

"A little," she said, her voice small and tight.

"When you're ready, come to the table and I'll help you dress your hand."

Maria turned her head sharply to look at him, and her breath caught in her throat. It was the first time since the party that she'd allowed herself to really look at him. The Captain was dressed for bed, an elegant dark blue robe covering his pajamas, his bare feet in slippers. At least his hair was still combed perfectly, but his face reflected nothing but concern for her. Was this the same man who wanted to just "take her to bed and be done with it"? Remembering those words made her shiver, and she said, "Oh, no, Captain, that's not necessary, I'm more than capable of –"

The Captain held up a hand to stop her protest. "Please, Fraulein, it's the least I can do for being so careless and having you suffer the consequences."

"It was only an accident," she murmured, even as she turned off the water and walked to the kitchen table and sat down.

Georg pulled up a chair to sit by her, their knees almost touching. "And that doesn't mean someone can't get hurt. So, please, allow me."

Slowly, Maria nodded, and held out her right hand, which was beginning to sting again without the cold water to ease the pain.

He saw her hand shaking a little, and his heart swelled for her – was she afraid of him? When had she _ever _been afraid of him? Resolving to be as gentle as he could, Georg gave her a small reassuring smile as he poured some ointment onto his fingers. He took her hand gently with his left, and both felt a subtle electric charge shoot down their spines: first skin-on-skin touch. "This might sting a little at first, but I promise it will pass," said Georg in that same gentle tone. Then Georg began to gently rub the ointment over her first-degree burn.

He was right: it did sting a little at first, and Maria drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. His own heart hurt for her, and he was as gentle as possible.

Soon her pain subsided, and he could feel her relax a little. He took his time as he spread and gently rubbed the ointment; at last, he could touch her, even if he hadn't imagined these exact circumstances. His fingers were gentle, almost caressing her skin. With his left hand that was touching palm-to-palm with hers, he could feel how smooth her skin was.

Maria felt the pain slowly going away thanks to the ointment and the Captain's gentle fingers. She couldn't help but watch as his fingers worked. His hands were bigger than her own, and were a little rougher too. But his touch was so warm and gentle, it was baffling. _He _was baffling.

Done with the ointment, Georg cut some gauze from it's roll and gently, slowly, wrapped it around her hand, with just enough pressure to be secure. He fastened it with a piece of medical tape. "There," he murmured. Now was the time he should have withdrawn his hands, but somehow he couldn't. He still felt horrible for hurting her, and as if he were asking for forgiveness, he ever so gently encased her hand with both of his own. Even with her bandage it was warm. As he held her hand, the revelation he'd made earlier that day rang back true and strong in every cell of his body. If he had his way, Georg would never have to let her go . . . _Oh my God . . ._ He finally realized the truth. "Maria," he breathed in a soft voice full of awe and –

Suddenly, a warm drop came from above his hand and landed on his fingers. He looked up to see Maria's face hanging. When she spoke, the tone of her whisper reflected her expression: agony.

"_Please . . . please don't._"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Sigh . . . this next chapter is going to be tough to write, so be patient with me . . . I can't tell you how much I appreciate the reviews of the last chapter, hope to get just as many for every chapter I do!_


	9. Chapter 9

"_Please . . . please don't."_

Maria practically ripped her newly bandaged hand from Georg's grip and retreated to the other side of the kitchen, turning her back to him and wrapping her arms around herself.

Georg felt as if he'd been rudely awakened from a trance, and looked at his now cold hands. Then his gaze turned to Maria, practically shaking in the corner. "Fraulein, what is it? Did I hurt you?"

No response, just a repressed sob.

"Fraulein," he said again, rising up from the kitchen table and taking a step towards her. "What's wrong? Something is wrong, please tell me. Let me help you."

"You can't," Maria murmured, brokenly. "How can _you_ help?"

Now he was a little afraid, but why he didn't know. He took another cautionary step towards her. "Perhaps I would know how if I knew what's wrong, Fraulein. Please."

Slowly, Maria turned around and looked at him. Georg's heart broke to see her tear-streaked and agonized face. Her arms just tightened around her. "I . . . I think . . . I need to leave."

"Leave?" Georg couldn't comprehend at first; she wanted to go back up to her room? But as he looked into her tear-filled eyes and saw the depth and the seriousness there, he knew what she meant. And he couldn't let her go that easily. "Maria, why? What's happened, what's changed?"

"Everything," she whispered, backing up into the counter. "I d . . don't feel comfortable here anymore." Her gaze lowered and her jaw tightened.

"Maria, please," he practically begged, taking another small step forward. "I can't accept this without knowing what I or the children have done wrong."

Her head snapped up. "Never the children, they've done nothing wrong, ever . . . I'm only sorry that I have to leave them like this, before the summer is over . . ."

"Then tell me what _I've _done," Georg said firmly, standing before her. He would not, _could_ not, let her go like this, so distressed. He needed to know what he'd done wrong.

Maria looked at this man who had been a mystery, an enigma since the very first day. One moment he was strict, distant and cold, and the next he was open, gentle, a loving father and man. _What did he want from her? _Deciding she had no choice but to tell him in order to find out, Maria harden her gaze and took a deep breath before speaking in a forcibly calm voice. "The night of the party, after it was over, I came downstairs for something to drink. When I passed by your study, I heard you and Max talking. I wouldn't have listened but you were speaking of _me._"

Georg's mind went back to two nights ago, when he'd poured out his frustrations to Max. With the help of some whiskey. Instantly, he became afraid. "I see . . . and what, exactly, did you hear me say?"

Maria could see he was cornering her, even if unintentionally, so she quickly moved away from him and made sure the table was in between them when she spoke. Only with a distance between them could she think clearly and gather what bravery she had in her to tell him. "You talked about . . . how I was a frustration to you from the start, and I don't deny that. Then Max said he saw you staring at me a lot. You talked about when we danced . . . what you felt and what you . . . wanted to do with me . . ." Her voice was getting shakier as she spoke, the words so hard to say. "And then you said . . . if you were smart, you would _take me to bed and be done with it!_" Now she was angry as she said those awful words, her voice disgusted and breathless and she stared at the Captain with burning eyes. "I couldn't listen to anymore after that, so I ran back up to my room."

The words he had spoken two nights ago all came back to Georg, and he was horrified that she had heard him. _Oh no . . . oh God . . ._ He suddenly saw his hopes crumbling, all because he hadn't thought before he'd spoken. Georg closed his eyes and set his jaw, putting his hands on the table and hunching over. "I . . ." What could he possibly say to make this right? He had to try anything. "I wasn't . . . thinking straight when I said that, I never should have said it, and I never, _ever_ imagined you would ever hear it."

"Nevertheless, you said it and I heard it," said Maria angrily. "Now I'm ill at ease whenver I'm in the same room with you, fearing what you could be thinking when you look at me, like when you saw me outside yesterday."

"Please, believe me, Maria," said Georg, still not looking up. "I would _never _do something like that to you, I didn't mean what I said."

"_Then why did you say that?_" she snapped. Maria hadn't snapped at him since that day when he had a change of heart. Then again, she only snapped when she was angry, and she was angry. Up until that night, she'd been shocked, confused by what he'd said. Now that had changed to rage – but not just for him, but for herself and her own mixed up feelings.

Georg finally looked at her again, and his own eyes were burning, begging her to understand. "I had been drinking a little, and was frustrated. I didn't think . . ."

The look in his eyes was so desperate, Maria couldn't help but be a little moved by it. So her anger slowly turned to emotional fear. "What do you want from me, sir?" she asked, a tear sliding down her cheek. "Please . . . just be honest and tell me . . . because I don't know what to think anymore."

Georg looked at her, those lovely eyes burning with emotion and a thirst for answers. He had never seen her scared before, and she was now scared of _him. _He felt sick, wondering how he could best answer her question. Tell her the truth? What good would that do? He had no idea whether she felt anything like he felt for her – perhaps he'd only imagined he'd seen something in her eyes when they danced. But he couldn't lie to her either . . . she'd asked him to be honest.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered, looking into her eyes.

Maria suddenly felt naked – what was that energy in his gaze? A part of her didn't want to leave either, far from it. She wanted to stay here, with the children . . . and with him, despite what he'd said. This realization only confirmed her decision to leave in her mind.

"My God, why are punishing me?" she whispered more to herself than Georg as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked at Georg. "You shouldn't have asked me to stay that day we fell off the boat. You should have just let me go. Then none of this would have happened."

"Do you truly wish that?" he asked softly. He couldn't believe she truly wished that.

"My purpose here was fulfilled that day," she said fiercely, as if trying to convince herself as well. "The children got their father back . . . I wasn't needed anymore . . ."

"Yes, you were, and you still are, Maria," said Georg earnestly. "Do you know how much you mean to my children?"

Maria took a steadying breath to control her tears. "They mean the world to me, Captain; I love them as if they were my own. But they can't have a governess forever, much less once school starts. We would have to part sooner or later, Captain. Perhaps it should be sooner."

"I don't agree," said Georg, still fighting. "There is still half of the summer left, Fraulein."

"That's still plenty of time, Captain," said Maria. "It will just make it even painful when I leave."

"Please, Maria –"

"Don't ask me again, please!" said Maria, near the breaking point. "I love those children, it's true, but they aren't the only ones I see every day! Each time I look at you I remember what you said you wanted to do to me, and it hurts. Even before the night of the party, I . . . I felt different, things I've never felt before, when we looked at each other . . . I don't know why . . ."

Georg listened and a spark of hope ignited in him as he looked at the confusion in her face. So she was feeling something, too? Georg took a step around the table. "Feelings aren't a bad thing, Maria."

"They are when you're a postulant!" she practically yelled at him, breaking at last and starting to sob. Georg felt foolish; once again, he'd completely forgotten she was a postulant. Maria continued to speak through her sobs and her tears. "I shouldn't be . . . I've pledged my heart and life to God! I've wanted nothing else for years! I'm trying so hard, what am I doing wrong?" She sobbed into her unbandaged hand.

Georg wanted more than anything to comfort her, to hold her and soothe her. But he could do nothing without harming her further, so he just stood there, silent and feeling horrible. Maria calmed her sobs and wiped her face. When she lifted it again, it had a barely firm resolve. "No, I know what I must do. It's all for the best."

She made her way towards the kitchen door, having to pass by him in the process. When she was close by him, she turned her eyes up to meet his. Some of her anger was still inside her, and it bit into her tone like nothing Georg had ever felt.

"And just like I told you I could never answer to a whistle, I would _never _allow _any _man to have his way with me just to soothe their own frustration and appetites, postulant or not. I may not know much, may just be a simple mountain girl, but I do know one thing: _I'm worth more than that_."

Georg just looked back at her, accepting her justified anger. "I never thought you weren't."

Maria bit the inside of her and left him standing alone in the kitchen, holding her bandaged hand with her good one. Once out of earshot, she bolted for her room.


	10. Chapter 10

Maria buttoned up the last awkward button of the dress the poor had not wanted. The material felt unexpectedly nice against her skin, despite the coarse fabric. It felt familiar, and comforting. Since it was nearly morning, Maria decided not to take the hat – she had to confess she was never very fond of it. So she left it in the bureau, with all of her other dresses. She knew that if she took them with her, they would be taken away and given to the poor . . . No, she wanted to leave with only what she'd come with. But though she looked the same and carried the same as when she'd come, she felt like a completely different person.

After shutting off the lights, Maria left her room and shut the door behind her. Quietly, she made her way to the other side of the house towards the children's rooms. In the pocket of her dress were seven separate notes for each child, giving her apologies, love, and permission to visit her at the Abbey whenever they liked. When she came to each child, Maria put the envelope addressed to each on their bedside tables and kissed them softly good-bye. When in the little girls' room she nearly broke down. The sights of Marta holding her doll and Gretl her blanket in sleep was so endearing, and Maria wished more than anything that they were her own to care for and never leave.

But she had to; there was no other way. So, steeling her heart, Maria quietly left the room, and blew one more kiss before softly shutting the door. After picking up her carpetbag and guitar from outside the door, Maria quietly made her way down the stairs.

Just as she reached the bottom, she heard a voice from the top of the stairs: "Fraulein?"

Maria stopped, sighing. She was prepared for this: one last fight. It was the last thing she wanted, but she knew that if she just walked out now, he would follow her. But she didn't turn around, but stood strong, clutching the handles in her hands tightly. When the footsteps behind her had stopped on the last step, just behind her, she spoke in a controlled, toneless voice, "Please don't try to stop me, sir. I've made up my mind and you can't change it. I'm sorry I'm leaving like this without saying a proper good-bye to the children, but . . . I feel it's for the best."

A moment of silence. "I'll talk to them in the morning."

What he said and the tone of his voice made Maria's head turn an inch to the left. Was he not going to try and persuade her to stay, then? And his voice sounded . . . resigned and sad, but somehow she could sense the merest hint of an inner turmoil just behind the tone. Deciding to try and stay strong, she said, "Thank you, I appreciate that."

Another moment of silence before he spoke again. "Would you like a ride back to the abbey? It's still quite dark outside." He spoke hesitantly in that same sad tone, as if he already knew well what her answer should be.

Maria didn't surprise him. "No, thank you, I can make it on my own." Another few moments of unmeasured silence. Maria waited – was he really not going to put up a real fight to make her stay? Was this the best he could do? _Why did he have to be so infuriating this way? Make up your mind! _Giving a silent sigh, Maria said finally, "Well, if that's all . . . good-bye, Captain."

But before she could even lift her foot, a strong but gentle hand rested on her right shoulder, and she heard him say, almost brokenly and urgently, "Maria . . ."

Maria froze and looked at the hand that was on her shoulder. His grip was not tight; if she really wanted, she could leave and escape that hand now. But she suddenly couldn't move her legs. Her heart began to beat faster, her face began to burn, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. His hand was very warm.

Gently, the hand turned her around to face him. Still, Maria couldn't bear to look up at him. He stood on a step, even more tall than her. She fixed her gaze on the third button of his nightshirt. Heat seemed to radiate from him.

"Please look at me, Maria," he said in that same heartbreaking tone. She had no choice but to turn her head up so slightly so she could look into his eyes. All at once, she was caught in those dangerous eyes, just like when they had danced. Then, his eyes had burned into hers as if they were trying to tell her something, like now, only this time it seemed stronger. And though her heart beat faster and stronger than ever, she couldn't quite name what it was, for it certainly wasn't only lust, as she'd once thought . . .

"I . . ." he started, barely audibly, and paused. Then he continued with more sincerity than he'd ever spoken to her. "I'm so sorry, Maria. So very sorry for everything. I can only beg that you can someday find it in your heart to forgive me."

And in that moment, she did. Just like that. Though Maria didn't let it show in any way, she knew in her heart that he was forgiven. She felt the hand still on her shoulder shake a little, as if he were fighting to keep it there, and not touch her face. In fact, she saw the line of his jaw just beginning to barely tremble. She got a little frightened now, but of what she didn't know.

"I can't . . . make you stay . . . you are so strong, so much stronger than I thought, I was foolish to think . . . I only ask that you be happy, Maria. That's all that matters to me in the end. Please . . . live a full and happy life, with no regrets. And remember . . . there are people in this house whose lives you have touched profoundly . . . You've been an angel sent by God to us . . . Remember that, Maria, if nothing else."

Maria was overwhelmed. Caught in his gaze, by the hand on her shoulder, somehow she felt her very soul binding with his, like the night of their dance. Not knowing how she found the strength to, Maria finally tore her gaze from his and focused on that button again. She felt relief, but also pain. Tears in her eyes were swimming and threatening to fall. And somehow, she managed to find her voice again, and it sounded just like his. "G-good-bye, Captain."

Then she felt something very soft and warm on her forehead. The sensation was not something Maria was used to, and for a brief moment wondered what it was. But then she realized: the Captain was kissing her good-bye. Her heart seemed to inflate and hurt all at once. The kiss was both gentle and powerful, and like his eyes, seemed to speak volumes of something she couldn't yet understand. Her eyes closed and tears spilled out.

When she let out a shaky sound, a cross between a sigh and a sob, she felt his lips leave her forehead. Instantly the spot felt so cold but so hot, like she'd been burned, seered with a charm. She dared to look up into his eyes again: there were tears there, too. "Good-bye, Maria." Her name felt like a caress on his voice.

And before Maria could either break down or completely forget who she was, she muttered in a breathless, choked voice, "I'm sorry," turned around, and went out the front door, shutting it behind her.

Leaning back against the door, her hand clutching the knob behind her back, Maria tried desperately to control the silent sobs that were now shaking through her body. She felt torn up inside, and the worst part was that she didn't know why. All she knew was that it had something to do with this place, with this family, with those children, and most of all with _him._ What was happening to her? Poor Maria, if she'd grown up in a loving family, or had any previous experience, than she would know, but alas she did not. Trying desperately to calm herself down and clear her vision, Maria took one deep breath after the other.

Once she felt reasonably calm, she began the long walk towards the gate. She remembered how, when she'd arrived, she'd run across the yard to the door, singing at the top of her voice. Now, she trudged at a slow step, and her voice seemed to have disappeared from her throat.

At the gate, just before she opened it, Maria turned her head to look at the house again. Once it had seemed huge and opposing in the sunlight, now it seemed familiar and comforting in the dark. There was a moment when Maria just wanted to run back to the house, but it only lasted a moment. "Good-bye," she whispered, then went through the gate, shut it behind her, and began her long walk to what she thought was her home. She didn't yet realize the journey she had to make before she found her true home.

* * *

><p>Georg wandered everywhere and nowhere in the house. It shouldn't have surprised him that he ended up outside of Maria's empty bedroom. For the last few nights, he'd been dreaming of walking to this room at night, but he never got further. Somehow his conscience had mercifully kept his dreams from getting . . .<p>

But his conscience couldn't stop his stupid remarks he'd made to Max. He didn't listen to his conscience years ago when he should have let Agathe go. If he'd done it before Maria had come, he would have realized his feelings a lot sooner, and wouldn't have been a problem to him. But, even if that, what good would it have done? The bottom line was this: Maria was a postulant, had chosen to give her life and heart to God. No matter how much he thought that life didn't suit her, or his own feelings for her, she'd chosen her life and he had to respect her decision, hard as it was.

He entered her empty room, and he could still smell her scent on the air. He inhaled it deeply, knowing it would soon fade with her absence. Noticing the bureau was open and not empty, he inspected. She'd left the clothes she'd made here behind. His hand reached out and touched each of them, letting memories flow through him with each dress: the dress she'd worn when she'd fallen in the lake, and how it had clung to her figure so deliciously it nearly drove his frustration to the boiling point; the light blue and flower-print dress she'd worn at the party, when he'd danced with her and been close to her for the one and only time; and the dress that meant the most to him . . . the lovely, flowing blue dress from the night of the puppet show.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to remember when he'd given her the material . . .

_Georg came back from town just before dinner, a bundle cradled in his left arm. He felt strangely eager to see the look on the little Fraulein's face when she got this material in her hands. He still vividly remembered the incident of the previous week, and since then had been searching for a way to show his thanks. And today, while running errands in town, he'd spotted this material in the window of a dress shop. Remembering how she had boasted she could make her own clothes – and how truly horrid the dress she'd come with was – Georg knew he had to get it. Finally he could give her something from which to make a dress that would compliment her perfectly._

_ He could hear the children in their rooms, getting changed for dinner, and knew that Maria would most likely be in either her room or the little girls' room. He decided to try her room first, and luckily she was there._

_ "Captain!" she exclaimed in some surprise upon opening the door and seeing him there. "Was there something you wanted?"_

_ "Well, Fraulein," he began, and suddenly he felt almost nervous and shy, with his gift for her. "You see . . . I never had the chance to give you a proper thank you for last week, when our little screaming match resulted in me finally coming to my senses."_

_ "Oh," said Maria, "Captain, there's no need to thank me –"_

_ "I believe there is, Fraulein," he interrupted, and held out the bundle for her, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. Her eyes glowed as she reached out to take it. Immediately, she untied the string and carefully unwrapped the brown paper. When she glimpsed the blue fabric, she gave a gasp of pure delight. The Captain couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face as she unfolded a bit of it and smoothed it with her fingers. When she looked back up at him, her eyes were sparkling. Her smile was absolutely lovely._

_ "Oh, Captain! This is . . . I'm sure this will make the most beautiful dress I've ever had. Thank you, thank you so much!"_

_ "It was my pleasure, Fraulein," the Captain replied, the small smile still on his face. Remembering he needed to change for dinner, he said, "I'll see you at dinner, Fraulein."_

_ "Yes, thank you again, Captain, so much," she said and then closed her door. Georg walked back to his own quarters still smiling; it was the best gift he'd ever given._

And now she'd left it behind. She'd left _him_ behind.

Georg lifted the dress from the bureau and sank down on the edge of Maria's bed, his fingers caressing the soft fabric. As he did so, he said a silent prayer to God as the first tear he'd shed in four years soaked into the sleeve of the dress:

_"Bless her, God, and keep her. Let her be happy. If for nothing else, because she is an angel sent by you. Because she saved my family. Because she loves my children._

_ "And because . . . _I love her_."_

THE END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Don't start crying and sharpening your pitchforks just yet! Look at the summary - heck the title - for this story: this is only the first act! You don't honestly think I'm going to end a story like THIS, did you? Keep an eye out for Act II . . . ;)_


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